Harry! On Ice
by partofforever
Summary: Harry fails once again and starts thinking about giving up his career. Things change suddenly after a footage from his training leaks online. AU: Non-Magical, Modern. Crossover: Yuri! On Ice.
1. Chapter 1

_**AN** : The only point of this story is finding an excuse for not-studying. It makes absolutely no sense (and even less if you haven't seen Yuri! On Ice yet). I hope my Pharmacology teacher likes fanfiction, because it's the only homework I'll be able to show him tomorrow._

* * *

 **Harry! On Ice**

"It's never going to work," Harry told himself, hidden in an empty locker room after what was probably his last try at making it in Grand Prix this season. "I'm hopeless."

His mom was trying to reach him on the phone, but he didn't have the heart to talk with her right now. She was rooting for him so hard... Yet he disappointed her... Again.

Tears started streaming down his face and the thought of going back home and seeing all his friends and neighbours hit him. How could he look them in the eye? They were all thinking he would make it big, but even though he was skating for years, nothing seemed to work. During trainings he was so much bettter than publically... What kind of excuse was this even? Honestly, the whole point of skating was for people to see it...

Someone entered the room and Harry tried to hide his miserable face in a towel. It was obviously pointless, because the intruder came up straight to him:

"Why are you even trying?" A blond haired boy asked him mockingly, looking at him haughtily, even though he was younger and shorter. "One should know when to give up," he added, walking towards his locker seeking for his training bag. He left soon after, leaving Harry even more sulky.

Wasn't this Malfoy? Harry heard about him before - the most talented and probably most greedy junior in last few years... Every trainer wanted to coach him, every reporter dreamed about an interview... But Malfoy was strictly guarded by his ballerina-mother and coach-father. No wonder he grew up to be the most promising skater after Tom Riddle.

Riddle... Harry did wonder sometimes what he was lacking and why didn't he achieve the same level as his idol. Riddle was the one who made him interested in skating in first place, but now that he was able to see him every now and then during sporting events, his admiration started to turned into something more uneasy. Harry was never going to be this good.

"Maybe it was never meant to be," he told his reflection, but it did neither agree nor disagree.

...

"Would you like to take a picture with me?"

"No, I didn't mean to..." But it was late and Harry was already standing next to Riddle and his coach, Xenophillius Lovegood, took a shot. "Be sure to tag me on Instagram," the champion added with a smile and proceeded towards the door with the Malfoys.

Harry felt hopeless once again. Tom Riddle didn't even recognize him as another participant.

...

Hermione and Ron, Harry's best friends, were looking at the miserable figure on the rink. Harry returned home for the first time in years and it seemed he was nearly certain that it's time to give up his career. Hermione remembered the first time Harry announced he'd like to be a skater - they were eleven years old and watched World Championship together. It was the first time Tom Riddle got the gold.

"Ron, the music..." Hermione said suddenly, looking at the ice.

"Isn't it...?" Ron seemed equally surprized.

Harry was executing Riddle's winning routine with unexpected ease.

...

"Harry?!" Someone was knocking on his door furiously. What time it was? It seemed he only laid his head down on the pillow... "Harry, what is this supposed to mean?!"

Was it... Minerva McGonagall? No, she would never wake up so early...

"Harry, why is your skating all over internet?" Well, it was Minerva McGonagall after all. No one else would acuse him of something equally stupid. His routine... all over internet? Probably so poeple could laugh at his failed attempt to jump a quadruple? It was an exeptionally spectacular fall.

"Harry?" It was his mom now, speaking in a much softer voice. "Someone wants to see you downstairs, could you hurry up?"

What was wrong with all of them? Why couldn't they let him sleep? He did come home for a reason.

"Harry, you won't regret it." Was it Hermione? Why were they all standing at his door?

His phone buzzed aggressively. Still refusing to open his eyes, he reached for it blindly and guessed it was only a text. Who would message him on a Sunday morning?

You will regret it, Potter.

Conficted information, he thought stupidly and turned away from the door.

His phone buzzed again.

"What now?" It was honeslty too much. Even he was able to loose temper and he was about to do it.

If you want war, you'll have it.

What the heck? Who was sending those weird texts?

The answer came soon enough.

My name is Draco Malfoy and unlike yours, it will be remeber.

Malfoy? That brat from the locker? What was his point...?

Harry look at the door suspiciously. What was going on? All these people trying to wake him up, Malfoy treathening him for some reason...

He heard a noise outside and rose on his elbow. A voice he couldn't quite match with a face spoke gently:

"Let me."

The key clanged on the other side and after a moment the door opened smoothly, letting in some light.

Harry saw his mother and Hermione, Minerva McGonagall was behind them... And in the front, right before his eyes, was an alarmingly familiar man.

"Hello," Tom Riddle greeted him with an amused smile. Harry suddenly regreted sleeping naked since his sixteenth birthday. "I came here to coach you."


	2. Chapter 2

_**AN** : Due to popular demand, Harry! On Ice is back and will probably continue every now and then (not that regularly, I have a NaNo to write). It seems we're all a little bit too obsessed with that skating-anime._

* * *

 _Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck._

It seemed Harry's thoughts were constantly revolving around one thing for the past few weeks.

First Tom _fucking_ Riddle invaded his personal space waking him up on that unfortunate Sunday morning, declaring that from this day on he'll be his trainer, then Draco _fucking_ Malfoy showed up too, taking the last spare room in his parents' guest house and becoming the most annoying customer they ever had, and lastly - but certainly not leastly - Hermione _fucking_ Granger decided to suggest that fighting for Tom Riddle's patronage in some kind of skating battle would be a great idea. Seriously? He was a an insecure skater, not a gladiator...

 _Fuck_ , Harry thought once more, observing Draco's gracefull movements on the ice. How was he supposed to beat him? If only Tom let him use his old routine... Not that he didn't want to challenge himself, he simply had _no_ idea about Eros or whatever Riddle wanted him to express.

"Fuck," he muttered under his breath, tying his skates. He had another week to find out what exactly Eros was or otherwise he could already pack his things and start searching for a nice apartment on the ocean floor.

"Did you say something?"

Harry turned around sharply, feeling the joints in his neck crack a little.

Of course, it _had_ to be Tom Riddle, sneaking on him as usually. Harry felt his cheeks getting hot all of a sudden. What was wrong with him these days? Someone could think he felt something for this annoying, way too caring and perfectly handsome excuse of a trainer.

Well, maybe he did feel something. Unrestrained embarrassment.

Maybe Tom Riddle was a great skater - the best one out there to be honest - but he was also so weird, unusual to say the least. Harry's heard in the past that great minds were supposed to be a little bit on the odd side, but having one of these great minds within reach for the past few weeks was a little bit too much for him.

It started innocently - Tom wanted him to hold his pet snake. _Pet snake_. Of course Harry _had_ to think about an entirely different kind of snake, but how could he not, when Tom walked on him when he was taking a relaxing bath - thanks heaven there was so much foam in the tub - wearing nothing but a towel and asking "Wanna hold my snake?". Harry felt his ears burning at the sole memory... Why did he feel so stupid around Tom? He wasn't trying to make Harry uncomfortable, he was simply...

"Are you unwell?" Harry heard his trainer's voice as if it was coming from a distance. "It would be a pity if you couldn't participate in the great games."

Why was he always smiling at him so nicely? Last year Tom didn't even _recognize_ him. Sometimes if felt like a dream, a perfect illusion - seeing his idol every day, talking with him, eating meals together (the last one mostly on Tom's part, because Harry was dieting again), brushing teeth in the same bathroom, because Tom refused to use the one in his own room for whatever reason.

"I-I'm fine," Harry stuttered slightly, cursing himself internally. He was sick of his own... what it was? Shyness? Social anxiety? Endless stupidity?

"So can I assume that you'll show as a perfect Eros this Saturday?" Tom looked at him carefully. "You've found out what it's all about?"

"Sure," the boy shrugged trying to act confidently and looking at his skates once again; unfortunately they were already tied.

"Really?"

Why did his coach sound so surprised? Did he doubt Harry's abilities to express Eros? Well, if he did, he was damn right, because Harry was as seducing as the piece of chicken his mother made for dinner yesterday.

He sighted in resignation. A true skater should be able to portray everything.

Draco flew right before his eyes, so ethereal as if he was a celestial being... How did he do that? In the beginning Draco was probably even more furious when Tom proposed them their routines, but now, a few days before the big unveiling, it was obvious Draco was doing great and he... Well, he was trying to execute the new quad, but the artistic side of his performance was pretty much non existent.

"What what is it about?" It seemed Tom didn't want to give up with the annoying questioning. Harry took his gaze off Draco and realized Tom was practically an inch from his face, studying him carefully.

"Chicken!" Harry practically screamed, jumping back, before he could think about anything better. "It's all about chicken!"

"Chicken?" To Harry's surprise Tom didn't look shocked - he was rather... delighted? "Is it because we ate it together?"

"W-what?! _You_ ate it!" It was very important to make this clarification, before Harry realized his statement didn't sound much better now. "And... no!" He added quickly, running off to join Draco on the rank. Once again his cheeks turned red.

...

 _It's not about the chicken_ , Harry thought after finishing his training. The rank was empty and it was so much easier to collect his thoughts now that he was alone, without Draco mocking his jumps and Tom encouraging him after every fall. _But it may be about him._

Something in his stomach twisted, but it wasn't unpleasant. He felt... excited. And scared. And stressed out because the show was near. And because everything pointed to an apparent fact: he fell for his coach.


End file.
